


Don't Join

by imaginationdaydreams



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode 8 The Last Jedi, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Canto Bight, Chases, Excessive Drinking, Gambling, Gen, Inner Dialogue, Not Canon Compliant, Partying, Poker, Prison, Regret, Running Away
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 04:00:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13115568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginationdaydreams/pseuds/imaginationdaydreams
Summary: Behold the prequel to DJ being in prison.





	Don't Join

His head was spinning... or was that the roulette wheel? Meh. Didn't matter. As long as it was spinning, whatever it was, his mind was at ease. How much had he lost in the last hour alone? Didn't matter. He could repair the damages in the morning or the morning after; just as he had done multiple times before when he had nothing he wanted his mind to turn to except for that wheel. Getting money was never the issue. He just wasn't able to hold onto money very long, or anything for that matter, but that wasn't a problem, to him at least. "If you hold onto things," he would say, "you will always be looking backwards." That was exactly what was happening right now and he hated it.

His thumb ground in circles on what used to be the blood red petals of the precious flower on his lapel.  Where that gorgeous hunk of gem had been so long was now just a worn spot on his coat.  _ So what? Maybe I do miss that stupid flower-- I really must be drunk.  _

Sauntering over to one of the many card tables, he staked out his spot after observing the other players for a little while. Maybe that would keep his mind of things. The large group of gamblers were not the scowling types with black hats pulled over their sunken eyes like in the small time cantinas. No. These were pompous, proud, and positively wealthy creatures liking nothing more than to win for the sick thrill of it. They weren’t in it for the money. They were in it for the glory. DJ stared at the shot of strong smelling alcohol before him. He didn't know what it was. Didn't matter...

At this rate he was going to be broke by midnight or at least that is what he hoped the other gamblers thought. If people convince themselves you are stupid, they won't expect you to ever be any different. That was his strategy for most things in life. It was either that or terrifying people into never needing to consider how smart he was. How he thought it was this; it doesn’t matter to you how good a guy is at outsmarting when he has a blaster at your throat. There was no in between. Now it was time: four nines. "Thank you, g-gentlemen," he mocked them. The chips of precious metal were heavy in his hands. They were the most beautiful thing he knew of, although he wasn't opposed to precious jewels either, especially that damned flower.

He has been prohibited from using the electronic chip machines years ago, being a slicer and all. It had landed him some pretty heavy jail time last time he got caught. However, cheating by hand was just as easy, almost. DJ had a nack, a real gift some people would say, for attracting shady creatures. The aliens sitting around the table looked at DJ in disgust. A worthless nobody like him besting them at cards was something even they didn't take kindly to. "Double or n-nothing this round?"

The dealer minded his own business and pretended not to notice the murderous looks shot at him by more than one of the aliens he dealt in. Quite a crowd of these underbellies had flocked to compete against him. DJ pretended not to recognize one of them in-particular, an arms dealer he had swindled a while back. It seemed the obese alien didn't like the fact that DJ, whom he hired to deliver weapons for a set price to an overly eager buyer, lied to the buyer that the alien was asking twice the agreed upon price for the merchandise and then kept the other half for himself. Unnerved, DJ looked through his hand. It was horrible; one card away from a royal flush as his luck would have it. He didn't know why he thought it would be any different this time. Maybe it was the liquor he had lost count of. He was a cheater and a slicer, but if the situation didn't necessitate intervention, why bother? With high hopes he discarded one card and was dealt one more. It was a six.

That well worn coat of his served many functions in his complicated life, hiding cards was one of them. Some of the other purposes he wasn't too proud to talk about. In one swift movement he replaced the six with one of his aces and boom: a royal flush. Oh, sure. Things would have gone great if that alien with the nervous twitch didn't call him out on it. "You've got me all wrong f-fellas. I can explain." The big alien grabbed him up by the collar of his coat and shook the cards out of his sleeve. They floated down to the ground with a condemning result before he was thrown into a table, his face hitting the solid edge of it.

The Canto Bight Police Department was notified and DJ ran for it. He stumbled into women with obscenely tight dresses and wiped out an entire shelf worth of alcohol on his way towards the door, but it was too late. The CBPD shackled and led him away. There were no courts of justice on this paradise planet, only prisons. He passed by cell after cell filled with murderers and rapists. You know, real bad guys. What had he done? Cheated at poker. Who didn't cheat at poker? This was Canto Bight after all. Anyhow, all the cells looked alike: standard dimensions, standard bunks, and more importantly, standard locks. That is, standard locks that his skeleton key could break the code to. Cell after cell passed until they came to the end of the row... and didn't put him in the last cell. Instead, they took the elevator at the end of the hall down.  _ Hmm. This is new. When did they build this?  _

Security locked him in cell 1215 and it was a beauty. DJ was screwed; new locks.

Later that night back at the casino--

 


End file.
